


The Terror of the Grizzlies

by MALLR4TS



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Bears, Bounty Hunters, Cunnilingus, Del Lobos, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fighting, Flirting, Fluff, Grizzlies, Grizzlies East, Pining, Prison, Prison Wagon, Reader Insert, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Snow, Strawberry, Trust Issues, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25678858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MALLR4TS/pseuds/MALLR4TS
Summary: Your men are dead but so are Flaco's, and it seems you have the upper hand as you're pushing him into the back of your bounty wagon, ready to transport him down to Strawberry's Jail. But after a bear attack in the night, your horses bolt and you're left to transport Flaco on foot.Will you manage to turn him in? Or is his constant flirting going to finally break you?
Relationships: Flaco Hernández/Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 105





	1. Capture

**Author's Note:**

> Theres not enough Flaco content :(((((( so im making my own!!!!!
> 
> This is also set a bit before RDR2.
> 
> Twitter and Tumblr are @MALLR4TS

Flaco Hernández, the terror of the Grizzlies. A man wanted in 8 states for countless outlaw related crimes - murder, robberies, kidnappings, the usual stuff. As stereotypical as this man may sound, he's definitely not an easy catch, as many other bounty hunters had tried to bring this man in and all had failed. Hell, even the Pinkertons were now on his tail, though they were far more occupied with another gang, leaving Flaco and the rest of the Del Lobos for bounty hunters to chase after.  
It was more than a tough job but the pay was to die for. Why not give it a go? What have you got to lose? Well, your life, but you'd accepted that risk the second you started your bounty hunting career. Besides, something in your gut was telling you to go after this man, and you've always been one to trust your gut. 

You'd picked up his mission in Strawberry, spending a few days to prepare. You'd brought along many guns for hire and teamed up with a bunch of other bounty hunters. There were ten of you, which was a lot, but the pay was still good even split this many ways.  
The Sherrif had warned you over and over about this man, saying he'd seen groups of five go after this guy, never to return. That's why you doubled your numbers, plus taking charge also meant you got a little extra cut of the pay. A few of the men complained that they wouldn't take orders for a woman, so you simply cut them out of the mission. They protested and whined but it was their own fault; you were in charge and that was final. 

So, you and your posse headed up north, as far as you could go. The man you were searching for was finally found in what was left of a cabin at Cairn Lake, a few tents beside it which members of the Del Lobo's gang slept.  
The fight was... chaotic. The whole event was traumatizing. You outnumbered the men there, but Flaco alone was far too powerful for you and your posse. However, somehow you'd managed it. Somehow you had THE Flaco Hernández in the back of your prison wagon, heading back down the mountains to Strawberry.

Your mind was still spinning, trying to go over those turn of events. Everyone was dead - all nine of your posse members and your guns for hire, all ten of Flacos men, and somehow you and that man had miraculously survived. Something told you that this was fate or destiny and your mind begins to wander at the thought of being stupidly rich, sitting on more than enough wealth to keep you happy, all thanks to this gunslinger in the back of your wagon. But first, you need to get him off this mountain, then you can enjoy rolling in your riches...   
  
It's colder than cold, your vision whiter than the gates of heaven. The snow is gorgeous to look at, especially on a nice holiday card, but not as nice to be in, though the satisfying sound of snow crunching as your wagon trails down the mountain keeps your mind happy. Although, you feel awful for the horses, having to drag you and this outlaw through the freezing cold. Sure, they have enough fur to keep them warm, but you can't help but still feel bad for them, wishing you could wrap them up in a blanket and reminded them that you'll all get through this.

The journey isn't too far, a few days at most. But oh boy, was it going to be long. Sadly, Flaco was quite the talker and hadn't shut up the second you managed to get him in the back of the prison wagon...

"Come on, princesa. Pull over," Flaco whined for the tenth time today. It was early, you'd set off about an hour ago. You were on day two of your travels, your bones already starting to ache from sleeping on the wagon, as well as spending almost all hours of your day sitting on the bumpy, wooden seat.

Yes, you'd been sleeping on the drivers seat of the wagon. You'd place your roll matt on top and rest there so you could hear Flaco if he tried to escape, and because you just didn't have the energy to set up and pull down a tent twice a day, nor did you want to sleep in the snow. You left him inside the wagon to sleep, and god, does he snore.

"For the tenth time, Mister Hernández, I'm not pulling over," you roll your eyes.

"But I have to shit."

"You just went!"

"I didn't. There was a fucking bear watching me. It's been following me for days. I promise you, querida."

"Well, that's your own fault," you shrugged, your tone of voice ever-so-sarcastic.

"Ugh, aye aye aye," Flaco slumped back against the wagon, shaking his head and looking at the chains on his wrists. "You could have got a bigger size for these, you know. I'm a big man," he begins complaining.

"Do you ever shut up, Hernández?" you snap, turning over your shoulder to look down at him through the bars.

"Oooh, got some fire in you now, chica. I love it! Carry on!"

Flaco was... quite the flirt. As soon as you laid your hands on him to shove him in the wagon, his first comment was how he 'never thought he'd enjoy a woman roughing him up like this.'  
You were certain his flirting was just to wind you up, maybe in hopes that you'll get fed up of him and throw him off a mountain, or just leave him behind to eventually freeze to death. Either option was definitely better than being hung.

"Ugh," you sigh, turning back and ignoring him.

"Why you turning away? You don't want me to see your pretty face blushing?" he asks. You don't respond. "Fine, whatever. The beautiful ones are always the most temperamental," he teases.

Flaco's finally quiet. All you can hear is the crunching of snow and the occasional call from an Elk as you continue your travels.  
The rest of today is spent almost silent. Maybe Flaco's given up? You expected him to put up more of a fight, but you weren't going to complain. At least he wasn't nagging your ear off like he was yesterday, barking at you for wiping out his gang whilst complimenting your efforts at the same time. He's got a lot of personality to him, bold and confident, yet still somewhat mysterious; you can't quite read his character... most men are easy to read, usually working them out within the first few minutes of meeting them. But Flaco? He clearly has a lot of layers, but legendary gunslingers such as himself always seem to. 

It must be a tough life, always being on the run, always having your guard up even as you sleep. But you can't be sympathetic to men who chose that life. You've heard that some men are forced into that life due to 'society' or whatever else they want to point the blame at, but a large part of you doubts it, thinking those men are willing to blame anyone but themselves. Typical.  
  


The sun begins to set so you decide to find a place to set up some form of camp. That basically meant pulling over and getting your roll matt ready.  
You find a decent spot, bringing the horses to a halt.

"Bed time, is it?" Flaco asks you. You ignore him.

You get off the wagon, stretching, letting all your bones crack. Your bum is sore from that rough wooden seat but oh well, you'll have to deal with it a little longer.  
You go through your belongings to find food for the horses. You take your time feeding them, giving them as much as they'll eat, followed by brushing them down and dismounting them, hitching them to a tree nearby. You felt awful for them, already noticing some sore patches from where their reigns had rubbed against them. Better equipment was definitely at the top of your shopping list once you chuck this nuisance in jail.

You head back over to the wagon, grabbing a few things for Flaco to eat, along with a blanket. Flaco knows the drill, he's sat far away from the doors, just like you ordered him to yesterday. You open them so you can chuck his stuff through then re-lock them.

"You look so tired, hermosa," Flaco tells you.

"I am," you respond, making your way back to the driver's seat so you can get your own food.

"Must be hard work, driving Flaco down the mountains," he continues.

"It is," you respond.

"Not you. I was talking to the horses." Flaco laughs at his own joke, his laughter more like a roar, bubbling straight from his chest in a tone as deep as his normal voice. You let out a sigh, choosing to ignore him again as you tuck into your food.

The rest of the night is spent silent. You go to bed soon after dinner, pulling an extra blanket on yourself as tonight was colder than usual. Flacos snoring doesn't keep you up, thankfully.


	2. Bear

You wake in a state of panic, that sound far too familiar and scarier than any bounty you've ever faced. And to make matters even better, it's pitch black. You can't see a fucking thing. The moon isn't being helpful tonight, thick clouds cast in front of it, preventing you from having at least a little amount of light.  
But oh boy, you can hear that beast coming. You can hear the thudding of its footsteps as it approaches, its chest grumbling with every step it takes.

It's a bear.

You're quick to your feet, grabbing your gun as you climb on top of the prison wagon. You look over in the direction that it's coming from but to no one's surprise, you can't see a thing.  
You can, unfortunately, hear the horses scream and bolt.

"Fuck!" You yell, looking in the direction of the horses. You hear the sound of their hooves disappearing, running for their lives. Literally.

That bear is still nearby, roaring again, pacing about as it decides whether to attack or not. You fire off a couple of warning shots, hoping that you'll either accidentally hit it, or scare it away. Maybe both.

"Give me a gun," Flaco says from underneath you, looking up to faintly see your outline on top of the wagon.

"What?! No!"

"I know where it is. I've lived in these mountains a lot longer than you have. I know how to hunt in the dark." Flaco has a valid point, but you don't trust this man at all.

"No, Flaco. I don't trust you," you bluntly tell him.

"Come on, chica, I ca-"

"NO!" You shout at him, cutting him off.

Flaco's taken aback, sitting down and staying silent. It's obvious that you're stressed, scared for your life and unable to properly defend it. You fire a few more shots in random directions and thankfully, one of them hits the beast. You hear the bear let out a whine as it scurries away, but you stand still and listen, waiting for it to disappear into the night before you decide you're safe.  
And then there's silence. It's odd yet peaceful, as if that encounter was merely a dream; you wish it was.

You climb down from the top of the wagon, sighing. You sit down on the drivers seat, head in your hands as you question what you're meant to do.

"The horses are gone," Flaco blankly states.

"Yes, Flaco. I know the horses are gone!" You snap at him again. "I'll look for them in the morning. Goodnight."

You get back into bed, your gun propped up against the seat in case the bear decides to come back, though you doubt it. If it was going to attack again then it would have done it by now, but that doesn't mean it won't at least keep an eye on you over the next few days. You are in its habitat, after all.

Despite being exhausted yet shaken up with shock and fear, you struggle to sleep, questioning how you're meant to get Flaco back down to Strawberry. Flaco doesn't sleep much either, but you only know that from the lack of snoring.

Morning eventually arrives; you lie and watch the sun rise from over the horizon and as soon as it's light enough, you're up on your feet, ready to start tracking the horses. You shove your breakfast into your pockets, deciding to eat it on the way.

"I'm going to go find the horses," you tell Flaco as you head off.

"Flaco will stay here then. Sitting in this cage as bear bait," Flaco huffs. You don't respond but you do roll your eyes, then begin trudging your way over to where the horses were last seen.

Thankfully, there are tracks. You spend all morning trying to find them but those horses must have run far. You can feel your heart sinking a little more with every step you take, knowing that you're not going to find them.  
The sun is now overhead and you give up all hope, accepting the fact that they're long gone. The only positive thing you can think is that you haven't seen any signs of a fight: no blood, no broken branches or marks in the snow, meaning the horses have hopefully gotten away safely. You begin your depressing journey back to Flaco, deciding how you were going to transport him.

Maybe this is how it was meant to end, maybe this is how you're meant to end, though your gut didn't get that warning when you took on the job.. Maybe Flaco will shoot you the second you let him out of the wagon with some hidden gun he has. Maybe he will push you off a mountain, or wait till you're asleep and run off. That'd be good, the journey would be much easier alone, but then all this would have been for nothing. If Flaco managed to escape then those poor men died for nothing, for you to essentially let this man escape after your string of bad luck.   
You were going to get Flaco Hernández to Strawberrys jail, even if that's the last thing you ever do.

You're finally back.

"Wow, look at those horses," Flaco sarcastically comments as you appear in his line of sight emptyhanded.

"I preferred you when you were more flirtatious and less sarcastic," you tell him as you approach, keeping your head down to hide your disappointed expression with the brim of your hat.

"Oh, you enjoyed my flirting, huh? I knew I'd eventually get through to you."

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night," you tell him as you pack up your belongings. You always pack light, keeping everything in one rucksack, only taking the bare essentials. The only problem is there isn't enough food and your tent is a single. As much as you want Flaco to sleep outside like the dog he is, you also can't let him freeze to death. You'll figure that hurdle out when you get to it.

Before approaching Flaco, you take out another set of chains, a much longer one. You hide the key in your coat pocket as they lock by themselves and you don't want Flaco knowing where the key is. You put your rucksack on and approach him, standing in front of the bars, your head finally tilting up to meet his gaze.

"Here's what you're going to do," you sternly begin as you draw your gun, lazily pointing it at him. "I'm going to keep your cuffs on and chain the two of us together. Only I know where the key is, and this means you can't run away. We're going to walk all the way down this fucking mountain, then I can chuck you in jail, get my money, and go home for a goods night's sleep. Understand?"

"That's it? That's your plan?" Flaco asks, trying not to laugh, though the corners of his mouth begin to twitch upwards.

"Yes, that's it. That's all I got to work with."

"You spent all night on this brilliant plan of yours, princesa?"

"I have bags under my eyes, Hernández. Of course, I did," you sigh. You're tired.

"Oh, my poor cazadora. Flaco will do whatever you say," Flaco replies with a smile, clearly biting his tongue to hold back on his laughter. At least he was being somewhat sympathetic.

For some reason, you want to believe him. Something in your gut tells you this will be a lot easier than you imagine, but you know damn well not to trust this guy, nor your gut when it's clearly speaking nonsense.

You let Flaco out, instantly regretting your decision when this beast of a man stands towering over you. There's no way this is going to work. There's no way this man isn't going to just push you aside and run for it. He could easily pin you to the ground, grab your gun, and shoot you. But he doesn't...  
Flaco studies you for a moment with his dark eyes, his brows slightly furrowed, but you notice an odd glisten to them. He lets out a deep breath as he puts his bound hands out, allowing you to chain one of your wrists to his. There are about 2 meters of chain in between you two, room for him to walk slightly ahead whilst you point your gun at his back.

"You going to keep that gun there the whole time?" Flaco asks you as he begins walking.

"Yes, Hernández," you tell him, following closely behind. You take one last look over your shoulder at the wagon, still enraged, one unlucky event after another.

"You can call me Flaco, you know," Flaco tells you.

"I don't want to get friendly with you."

"Ah, why not? I think we could be good amigos, you and me, hopefully more." There's a flirtatious purr to his voice, briefly looking over his shoulder at you, his eyes meeting yours under the brim of his sombrero.

"I know you only say these things to wind me up," you comment with a huff.

"No, no. Flaco would never just say these things. You can keep on pretending like you don't enjoy it, but I'll be carrying you away in my arms before this journey is over," he lightly laughs.

"Whatever you say, Hernández," you sigh.

Flaco's silent for the rest of the day. He occasionally slows his pace, letting himself walk beside you rather than in front. You don't often realize it straight away, too tired to click onto Flacos gradual loss of pace. But you finally click on to it once you feel his eyes on you. You'll huff and point your gun at him, to which he chuckles and goes back to walking ahead.

What is this man trying to do? Push your buttons? Get you so fed up that you'll kill him? Whatever it is, it's working.

Sundown is here and you've given up, allowing Flaco to just walk beside you, your gun still in hand but lazily at your side. You're exhausted and Flaco can see it in your eyes every time he looks over at you.

"You going to set up camp, chica? A big strong woman like you needs her rest," Flaco informs you.

"I probably should," you sigh.

You chain Flaco up to a nearby tree, enjoying the feeling of not having that heavy chain around your wrist. Flaco makes another comment as you're securing him. 'We've only just met and you're already tying me up, huh?'

Flaco watches you as you set up camp, making a comment about how the tent is far too small.

"I'll let you sleep against the tree then," you sarcastically respond.

"And let me freeze to death? Come on, querida, you're smarter than that."

Flacos right. The two of you were going to have to cram together in this tiny one-man tent. Up close and personal with an outlaw. Fantastic.  
You untie Flaco, keeping his wrists bound. He sits in your tent and watches as you cook some form of dinner, using up whatever rations you had left in your bag. Once the two of you have eaten, you're more than ready to sleep.

"Sleep on your side, then we'll have more room," you inform him as you squeeze in your tent beside him. You lie down, facing away from him, your eyes falling shut as you face the canopy. You can feel Flaco shuffling and settling down, followed by his breath hot on the back of your neck.

"Face away from me, Hernández," you sigh.

"What? You don't want to cuddle old Flaco?" He questions with a soft chuckle, though you know he's somewhat serious.

"Just roll over and go to sleep," you tell him, and Flaco picks up on the exhaustion in your voice.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Goodnight, Hernández," you sigh, your body begging you to let it sleep.

"Heh," Flaco smiles to himself as he rolls over. "Goodnight, mi amor."

Flaco's right. You didn't answer his question, you completely avoided it. Were you... getting soft? You'd known this man for 48 hours and he was already managing to chip away at your hard exterior. As if you were allowing a heavily wanted outlaw to worm his way into your heart.  
No way.   
All this flirting bullshit was just some tacky attempt for him to gain your trust and kill you the second he has the chance. You need to keep reminding yourself that, you need to keep your barrier up and shoot him down more often, maybe even show obvious signs of disgust next time he attempts to flirt with you. 

That was the plan, along with ditching him as soon as you reach Strawberry. It WILL happen.


	3. Cigarettes

You slowly wake up, stirring softly, feeling too warm for the first time in a days. You also feel... cosy? Like you've managed to find a handful of nice, thick furs to wrap yourself in.  
You soon realize that you're practically cuddled up to Flaco. You had rolled over in the night to press your body against his, your cheek resting on his upper arm, your arms clinging onto his forearm. The temperature must have dropped even more last night, though not enough to wake you, your body clinging onto the closest source of warmth it could find, even if that source was the bounty you're carrying.

"You're awake," Flaco states. He's on his back, one ankle crossed over the other, chained hands resting on his stomach, enjoying the feeling of having you snuggle up to him. "I didn't realize you were such a cuddler, chica," he teases.

"Yuck!" You yelp, quickly shuffling out of the tent and into the blinding daylight. You're blushing heavily, embarrassed that you were just cuddling up to that beast of a man, despite him being rather comfortable... His Bison fur coat is a lot softer than it looks, and his large size radiates so much body heat, more than enough to keep you warm. If only you could just wrap yourself up under his coat. 

Wait, no... you're getting soft again... You shake your head, shaking off those thoughts and focus on stretching, clicking your bones as you stand. 

"Hey! Where are you going? No need to get up so soon, we can cuddle a little longer," Flaco calls out after you, slowly getting up and exiting the tent. You tell yourself he's only joking but Flaco isn't laughing for once, he actually sounds serious, and he's pouting like a baby that's had its favourite toy snatched away. 

"That didn't happen," you state as you finish stretching, feeling your bones crack one by one. At least you weren't sleeping on that solid bench anymore.

Flaco's chucking again. "Okay, chiquita. We'll just pretend we were huddling for warmth."

"That's all it was. Not my fault it's cold," you huff as you rummage about in your bag for some form of breakfast. You find a couple of dry snacks and dig in, giving Flaco a handful. He takes it from you and you notice how red his wrists are from the heavy chains that have been wrapped around him for 3 days now. Flaco notices your staring.

"They hurt," he informs you.

"Well, I can't take them off," you say as you continue eating.

"You are so funny, mi querido. You say you don't trust me yet all you do is chain my wrists together and hope I won't overpower you and escape," Flaco grins. He's got a point.

"What else am I meant to do? How am I meant to get you off this mountain then?" You huff, a little frustrated.

"I would have killed me a long time ago, taken some form of prize to show that Sherrif," Flaco shrugs.

"Is that what you want me to do?"

"Of course not, mi amor. I am just saying."

"Well... stop 'just saying' stuff. All you're doing is making me trust you even less." It irks you that both you and Flaco knows that he could easily overpower you here. What was he waiting for? Maybe he was going to overpower you just as you approach Strawberry, using you as a hostage so he can take his bounty money and run. Smart idea.

"You seem grumpy. We can go cuddle for a little longer, maybe that'll soften you up," Flaco laughs. You ignore him, focusing on packing away the tent.

You're almost ready to set off, shoving the tent into your rucksack and swinging it onto your back. You suddenly realize that Flaco isn't around, somehow sneaking off as you were distracted. You huff, looking around. How could you miss that giant of a man?

"Hernández. This isn't funny. Where are you?" You ask, pulling your gun out of its holster, just in case.

"I'm taking a shit," you head Flaco call out in the distance. You sigh again.

"Hurry up!"

"I'm shitting as fast as I can," Flaco shouts again.

Flaco eventually returns over to you, and you're a little surprised that he's being... loyal? You chain your wrists back together, tapping your gun on his back to urge him to start walking ahead of you. Flaco does as he's told like a good little lap dog, though he's not quite the size of one.

Flaco was talkative today, mostly asking you about your back story and career. You kept questioning him why he was so interested in you and your work, to which he said 'just getting to know you, or do you want to be a mujer misteriosa?'  
Whatever that meant, you wanted it. Having Flaco poke his nose into your business was meant to be annoying, but deep down it really wasn't. Flaco was surprisingly good company, funny to be around and full of fire. You'd heard many stories on how he was a big, mean, grumpy bastard; you could definitely see that man in him but this Flaco just wanted to flirt and make you laugh. He's not like any bounty you've caught in the past, it's almost as if he's thankful that you're dragging him down of the mountain, but you're certain things will change once you're out of the snow.

All of this must be to get on your good side. Maybe he was praying he'd break your walls down and you'd eventually let him go. Either way, you couldn't let this man win.

You rummage around in your pocket, pulling out your final box of cigarettes. Flaco looks over his shoulder to see you popping one in your mouth.

"Am I allowed one, princesa?"

You think for a moment. "Fine," you say.

You pass Flaco a cigarette, the two of you stopping so you can pull out a box of matches. The cigarette is in your mouth, waiting to be lit, but none of these matches will light. They're not damp and the wind is barely above a whisper, so you're unsure on what the problem is, but it's enough to make you huff and begin losing your patience. Flaco's watching you turn red. 

"You want a hand, hermosa?"

"No. I've got this," you reply with the cigarette in your mouth. One match finally lights and you're quick to light your cigarette, but the match goes out before you can light Flacos. You sigh, annoyed you're going to have to fiddle about yet again.

"Ey, don't get worked up. Here, I'll light mine on the end of yours," Flaco tells you. You pause, about to move the cigarette from your mouth and stump it on the end of Flaco's but he moves quicker than you expected..

The cigarette remains in your mouth, and Flaco leans down to your height and press the end of his cigarette against yours. He puts his mouth to it, breathing in to help light his smoke. His face is so close, you can almost feel his body heat radiating off his cheeks, the air drifting from his nose and hitting your face as he continues to puff through his mouth.  
Flacos eyes flick up from the cigarette directly into yours. Either his eyes are the darkest shade of brown you've ever seen, or his pupils are blown wide, but the sight of this burly man gazing at you whilst attempting to focus on his task sends a chill down your spine. 

His cigarette eventually lights. Flaco stands back upright, letting out a deep exhale and side-eyeing you with a mischievous grin on his face. You're frozen. You can feel that flustered sickly feeling in your stomach. It wasn't your fault, the way Flaco lit his cigarette against yours was... hot. Pun intended.

"The snow finally got to you, huh?" Flaco asks as he takes another drag.

You un-freeze, coughing as you exhale all the smoke that had built up in your lungs.

"Come on," You tell him through your coughs, walking ahead of him this time. You don't want Flaco looking at you, even though you know exactly what he's thinking. He knows you thought that was hot, he knows your knees went a little weak and stomach flipped upside down.

Flacos grinning from ear to ear as he walks behind you, enjoying this cigarette even more. You nervously smoke yours, flicking the butt into the snow once you've finished.  
The redness in your cheeks eventually calms down, but you still feel... love sick? Ew! No way. Was that all Flaco had to do to break your walls down? Stand over you and look you deep in the eyes whilst he's inches away from your face.  
You thought you were tougher than that... 

"What card did you get?" Flaco asks from behind you, eventually breaking the silence.

"Oh, erm, I don't know," you say as you fumble about in your pocket to find the pack of cigarettes. Flaco catches up to you, walking beside you, peering down over your shoulder.

"Wonder if it'll be an old friend of mine," Flaco chuckles.

You pull out the card and surprise surprise, it's Flaco himself.

"Oh, what a coincidence," you laugh as you hold the card up to Flaco. Flaco takes the card from you, letting out a rumbling laugh as he looks over it.

"Look at me, querida! Back in my prime time. Oh, those were the days," he grins.

"Look how young and handsome you were," you tease him, your eyes flicking over the card then up to Flaco's, and you notice the way his cheeks turn pink at your comment. Flacos caught off guard, he's only seen you grumpy and moping around and for once, you're joking with him.

"Now I'm just old and handsome. Isn't that right, mi amor?" Flaco gives you a flirtatious look. You roll your eyes, ignoring his question. You take the card off him, giving it one last look before putting it away.

"At least you dress well now," you say as you put the pack away.

"Ay? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Those chaps. They're so... ugly," you scoff. Flaco scoffs back, mocking yours.

"Ugly? You don't like my fluffy chaps? They were real warm, you know. Real soft."

"I'm glad they were comfy, but they're ugly," you shrug.

"I'll make sure I don't wear a pair to our wedding," Flaco smirks, chuckling lightly as he watches your face go red again.

"We're not getting married, Flaco," you stutter, trying to walk ahead of him but Flaco catches up to you with his large strides.

"You called me Flaco," he states.

"Sorry. I meant Hernández," you reply, looking away.

Flaco chuckles again, enjoying the way you try and hide your flustered cheeks, dipping your head in hopes that the brim of your hat will cover them up.

"Flaco, Hernández. Whatever. Just hearing you say my name makes my heart flutter, hermosa," Flaco purrs at you. He's so cheesy.

"If the bounty poster warned me that you were going to be a cheesy flirt then I wouldn't have bothered," you sigh.

"Excuses excuses. I know you saw my face on that poster and picked it up just because you thought I was handsome," Flaco smirks again.

This time, you laugh, and Flacos taken back. You pull over for a second, rummaging around in your rucksack until you find his bounty poster. You pass it to him and watch as his face scrunches up, looking at the villainous portrait of himself. It's a stereotypical drawing, making the gunslinger look bad, giving him a glare and exaggerated facial features.

"This one is awful. The last one I saw made me look so handsome. But this?" Flaco scrunches up the poster and chucks it over his shoulder.

You huff. "I was going to frame that, you know," you joke.

"Oh well. You'll just have to look at my actual face instead, mi amor."

Flaco remains looking disappointed, walking beside you as the two of you continue your long trek back home. Your eyes often flick up to the sky as you walk, eventually noticing that the sun's getting ready to set. You should probably make camp soon, looking down the mountain to see if there's anywhere suitable.

You soon drag Flaco over to a small group of trees, setting up your tent for tonight. Flaco offers to cook dinner whilst you put up the tent. You remind him that you're not removing the chains off his wrists and he shrugs, saying he can cook with them tied together.  
Dinner is scoffed down. You're constantly hungry, looking forward to whatever big meal you're going to spoil yourself with when you're back in Strawberry. The two of you soon go to bed, back to back, trying to huddle under the blankets to keep warm. It's colder than usual tonight but you eventually manage to fall asleep.


	4. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing flaco as a sarky little shit aklfjslkg

You awaken, shivering, your body practically vibrating, desperate for heat. It's freezing, colder than cold.   
You roll onto your back, pulling the blankets up to your nose as you try to find some form of heat. You have nothing else to keep you warm, no more layers of clothes or blankets. Nothing. You can't light a fire else that'll just attract whatever predators are in the area. Maybe a wolf will come over and be really friendly, snuggling up to you, keeping you warm so you can fall back asleep.

Flaco stirs in his sleep, rolling onto his back. It's a tight squeeze so you roll back over, your eyes staring at the tent canopy. You try not to shiver too hard, not wanting to wake Flaco up with your violent shaking. Too late.

"You shivering, hermosa?" Flaco softly asks you, half asleep.

"Just a little," you reply.

"Big Flaco is here if you want to warm up," Flaco offers, his eyes still shut.

"I'm not cuddling you, Hernández," you attempt to scoff, but all you do is stutter.

"You did last night," he states.

"That was an accident."

"If you want to freeze to death then fine. I am only offering to keep you warm."

You ponder. How else were you meant to get warm? There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. This was the only way you would actually warm up, and a part of you is thankful that Flacos here.  
If you were alone you'd definitely freeze to death, so it was either take Flacos offer or die.

"Fine," you tell him as you roll over. "But we're not cuddling, just huddling together for warmth, alright?"

"Whatever you say, mi amor. If that'll make you happy." Flaco half opens his eyes, still tired and groggy. He rolls over to face you, holding his bound arms out so you can wriggle underneath them. His arms rest around your shoulders, the metal of his cuffs clanking, though not as loud as the wind screaming outside.  
You can already feel Flacos hot breath hitting your forehead, bringing some colour back to your frozen skin. You snuggle up to him, not feeling guilty about this. You needed to warm up. Your hands are tucked in between your bodies, your cheek pressed against the top of his chest, head resting on his upper arm.

"Hard to cuddle you with these chains around my wrists," Flaco mumbles, getting himself comfortable.

"We're not cuddling," you remind him.

"Oh, yes. Huddling for warmth," he snickers. Flaco eventually rests his cheek on your forehead, your stomach turning as he pulls you against his body even more. A large part of you wants to say 'fuck it' and unchain him so you can snuggle him to death, but you quickly remind yourself that this is a wanted man, an outlaw, and you refuse to be sweet on him, even if he is obviously sweet on you, and even if you are starting to question what a life by his side would be like.

Despite his hands being uncomfortably chained together, Flaco manages to place them comfortably on the small of your back. You sigh against him, your forehead pressing against his chest. Your hands come up to grab a hold of his empty bandoliers, fingers brushing against the fur of his coat. You're warming up, thankful that you decided to take up Flacos offer.

"You fidget a lot, mi amor," Flaco mumbles, his cheek still pressed against your forehead.

"I'm just trying to get comfortable," you tell him.

Flaco does his best at pulling the blankets over you more, his hands then going back to rest on your lower back. His large palms are pressed against you; you feel like you're cuddling a bear.

"You know," Flaco softly begins, "If this were some silly romance novel, the writer would have made me lean down and kiss you by now."

"Well..." you pause, unsure how to answer. "It's not, so..."

"Shame," Flaco huffs.

Your mind begins to wander, your head full of thoughts about this damn outlaw. You can't help it, but you want him to cup the back of your head, lifting it up slightly so he can bend down and steal and well-needed kiss off you. You want to feel his large hands gripping onto you, practically manhandling you as he rolls on top of you, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist. You want him to cover your neck with marks and kisses, fingers brushing into his hair as he grinds his crotch down against yours.

Fuck sake, you're horny.

You're about to check if Flacos asleep, but a light snore quickly answers that question. At least he isn't awake to see your flustered face or the fidgeting of your legs as you try to calm your crotch down. You debate trying to somewhat get away from him in hopes of calming yourself down, maybe you could roll over? No, all you'll do is press your ass against his crotch, although you're sure Flaco would be happy, waking up to feel your ass firmly pressed against him.

You try to fill your mind with fluffy thoughts instead, actually wanting to embrace this cuddle. You realize how heavy your eyes feel as you reach and arm out to wrap around Flacos large body, barely reaching his shoulderblade. He was definitely going to tease you about this in the morning but whatever, you were comfortable.

Eventually, you manage to fall back asleep, warm for once. In fact, this might be the warmest you've been since starting your journey. You want to feel shameful, but you can't. You're not ashamed to be cuddling this man... well, huddling for warmth. You're not cuddling. Definitely not.

Morning soon comes. You're still nice and warm, enjoying the feeling of Flacos fluffy coat pressed against your face. You gently stir, removing your arm from around Flaco so you can rub your eyes.

"Put your arm back," Flaco mutters, still half asleep, his cheek still pressed against your forehead. You don't question him, returning it and shutting your eyes again.

You're so comfortable; warm and cosy. But, ugh, you need to get up and stop being sweet on this man. He's just using you, or that's what you keep telling yourself. Your gut tells you his actions and words are sincere, but you make up nonsense, trying to convince yourself that he's nothing but a nasty outlaw whos going to dispose of you sooner or later.  
He's spent years running with a gang of men, probably not having any female attention for a while. Of course he's going to latch onto whatever he can find, and now you're practically wrapped around his pinky.

You sigh, trying to force those thoughts into your head, as depressing as they may be. You're quick to get up, not wanting to attach yourself to this man. Well, that's what you tell yourself. If you could spend forever in that comfortable position then you would.

Flaco grumbles, his eyes half opening as you peel yourself off him. You're almost certain you felt him try and grab a hold of you as you quickly exited the tent, and you wished he managed to. You wished he'd managed to pull you back into his arms and cuddle you back to sleep... No. You can't let those thoughts cloud your mind!! You are a bounty hunter, you can't get soft on silly outlaws.

Flaco's genuinely upset that you decided to get up so quickly, feeling a little heartbroken. He remains in the tent, rolling onto his back, keeping his eyes shut as he rests just a little longer.  
After finishing your breakfast, you coax him out. Flaco grumbles louder this time, huffing as he gets out of the tent. He puts his sombrero back on, standing tall and stretching, clicking his old, achy joints.

Flaco turns down breakfast, asking for a cigarette instead.

"This is all we've got left," you inform him as he lights up.

"You have it, chica," Flaco says, smoke puffing out of his mouth as he speaks.

"I've already eaten."

"Save it for the journey then, you'll get hungry."

"And so will you, now eat something!"

Flaco chuckles as he returns your box of matches. "You're soft on old Flaco, aren't you?" he grins.

"I'm not soft on you, Hernández," you scoff as you snatch the matches from him. You order him to stay put whilst you go off to use the toilet.

"I'll keep a lookout for bears," Flaco jokes, facing away as you run off into some trees up the hill.

You're quick to pack away the camp, pulling your rucksack on and chaining your wrists together. Flacos wrists look so sore, and you're almost certain there's dried blood on the cuffs.

"I'm going to have to hunt today," you inform Flaco as the two of you start walking.

"Good thing you have a bow. Can't be hunting with that gun of yours, chiquita."

"You know, I have no idea what any of those words mean," you tell him. You knew 'hermosa' means beautiful but that's the only word you recognise. 

"I'm not going to tell you," Flaco chuckles. "But just so you know, they are all nice. I've never insulted you, mi amor."

"As soon as I'm back home, I'm going to buy a Spanish translation book and find out what you've been saying to me."

"And when you do, you'll break me out of Strawberry jail," Flaco grins.

"To kill you myself?" You look up at him.

"I was thinking to kiss me, but if that'll make you happy," Flaco shrugs. "I'm old anyway, my time is coming sooner or later."

There's a glint of fear and sadness in Flacos eyes, and you actually feel bad for this man.  
Hang on, do you feel... guilty? You're feeling guilty for being the one that gets to decide when Flacos' life ends?

Fuck sake.

If the wagon was still here, you would have chucked Flaco into jail by now and never had to worry about him ever again. This was the exact reason why you never got to know your bounties; just toss them in the cell and enjoy the money. They were bad men who knew that their life would end this way. It was their own fault for picking this lifestyle. 

But Flaco is different. He is an outlaw, yes, but something about his actions and intentions seems chaotically good. Even just from the way he speaks makes you think he's a little different from all the others. The other bounties you've brought in will kick and scream till the very end, and those who don't usually give up and begin crying, hogtied on the back of your horse. Flaco isn't like that; Flaco looked at you from across Cain Lake with a glisten in his eyes and a grin on his face, as if he's been waiting all his life for you to show up.

"You've got your thinking face on, chica," Flaco says, breaking your train of thought.

"Oh. I'm just thinking about what to hunt."

"Nice cover-up story," Flaco chuckles. "What have you decided?"

"Erm, I'll hunt a rabbit. Nice and easy," you stutter.

"Look, chica!" Flaco halts, his hands reaching out to tap your shoulder. "Theres one right there!" Flaco shouts. His shouting scares the rabbit, it quickly bolting away. Flaco lets out a roaring laugh, laughing away as you try to calm yourself down. His sudden shouting had startled you, giving you a rush of adrenaline.

"That your idea of a joke, Hernández?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Yes," Flaco blankly replies.

"Real funny. We just ate, I'll hunt later."

" _You_ just ate. Poor Flaco is hungry. Do you always let your bounties starve, hermosa?"

"I-" you stutter, coming to a halt to put your hands on your hips. "I offered you breakfast and you turned it down. You can't complain when it's your own fault!"

"Oooh, there she goes. Telling me off, heh," Flaco grins at you. "You might as well spank me whilst you're at it."

"I'm not going to spank you, Hernández," you inform him as you take your rucksack off to pull out whatever food you can find. "There, now stop complaining."

Flaco takes the pack of biscuits off you, scoffing them down and giggling to himself as both of you begin walking again. 

Today's walk was rather quiet. Flaco asked if you wanted to play i-spy, and for some reason, you agreed. You soon called off the game because everything Flaco spied was snow. At least he thought it was funny...  
Your stomach rumbles and you decide it's time to start hunting. You find a nice patch to set up camp. As you're pitching the tent, Flaco picks up up your bow, looking over it.

"You keep this in good condition, mi amor," he tells you. You're quick to take it off him, frowning.

"Don't touch that," you scoff, putting it back down against your rucksack.

"Why? You think I'm going to hurt you with it?"

"Yes," you reply as you go back over to pitching the tent.

"Oh no, what am I going to do with a bow and no arrows? Hit you over the head with it?" Flaco laughs. For an outlaw that's been caught, he laughs a lot, and his sarcasm is definitely going to be the death of him.

"I don't know, Hernández. Just remember that I don't trust you, especially not with any of my stuff," you reply as you finish pitching the tent.

"So you'll cuddle me but you won't trust me?"

"I'm not having this conversation," you sigh, chucking your backpack into the tent as you equip your bow. "Come on," you tell him, not bothering to chain the two of you back together.

Flaco doesn't reply but you can hear him grumbling under his breath as he follows you. The two of you walk around not too far from camp, trying to find any form of life. Finally, down by a stream, you see a rabbit having a drink. You squat down, pulling Flaco down by the sleeve of his coat. Flaco crouches beside you, staying still and watching as you shuffle a little closer, your bow at the ready.

He watches you hunt, admiring your focus. You can feel him watching you, but you try your best to ignore it. The arrow launches, swiftly hitting the Rabbit. It lets out a yelp as it's impaled, its body going limp on the shore of the river.

"Good with a gun and a bow," Flaco states as he stands upright, watching you run over to go and pick the rabbit up. You pull out the arrow, holding the rabbit by its legs as you return to Flaco.

"Thank you," you reply. Flaco walks ahead as you return to camp.

Flaco offers to get the fire going whilst you skin and prep the meat. Well, he originally offered to do that dirty work, but you'd have to remove his cuffs for that.  
You watch him in the corner of your eye as he builds the fire, hearing the clanking of metal every time he moves his hands. Flaco wipes a spot of wet blood off his wrists, his wounds bleeding again from the metal rubbing at him for days.

"Here," you say without thinking. Flaco looks over to you. You're hesitant but you needed to do this.

You reach into your coat pocket, taking out the cuff keys. You urge Flaco to put his hands out, and he watches in awe as you uncuff the chains. A small part of you is expecting him to make a run for it, but you know by now that this man isn't going to leave you alone.

"Ah!" Flaco yelps as the cuffs fall off. He goes to give his wounds a rub but stops, knowing that'll only make them worse. You quickly pop into the tent, going through your backpack to find something to soothe his wounds.

You don't say a word to him, you just sit on the log beside him and gently take a hold of his hands, pulling up his coat sleeves so you can put a rag soaked in ointment on one wrist, then the other. Flaco watches your every move, noticing how tiny your hands are in comparison to his as you gently dab the medicine on his skin. 

"Drink," you tell him as you pass him a bottle of whiskey. Flaco chuckles, grinning as he pops the cork and takes a nice, big swig.  
You're practically holding his hand, keeping one wrist in place as you press the cloth on it for a few minutes. You then switch over to his other wrist, your focus mostly drawn to caring for him but watching him down the bottle every so often.

You can't help but notice how rough the palms of his hands are, worn from years of fighting. Without realizing, your hands trail over his, looking at the thick skin on his palms.

"You're starting to trust me, mi amor," Flaco tells you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm not, Hernández. I can't have those wounds getting infected. Don't want you dying on this mountain."

"You're good at these little cover-up stories, you know," Flaco chuckles, his thumb gently rubbing over the back of your hand, reminding you that you were still holding his hand. He gives you a look before having another drink, smiling to himself as you dip your head down and return to tending to his wounds. Flacos easily downed half the bottle; it's a big bottle but he's a big guy, so hopefully, he won't get drunk.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You tell Flaco he can keep the cuffs off for tonight after having a few drinks yourself, easing your paranoia. Flaco grins, telling you yet again that you must trust him now. You don't. Or at least, you keep telling yourself you don't.  
Dinner goes down fast, followed by a few more drinks. You don't have too much, just enough to enjoy yourself. Flaco on the other hand is clearly drunk, louder than usual, his laugh echoing off the mountains. You're surprised a predator hadn't found the two of you, but they're probably scared of how loud Flaco was.

Flaco opens up to you, telling you wicked tales of his younger days, piecing together his stories as you find out how he became wanted in 8 states. You're mesmerized. They're so much better than the stuff you'd read in books or overheard in saloons.   
His eyes catch yours often, giving you a look as your cheeks go red again. You tell him it's just the heat of the fire, but he grins and says 'sure, but I know desire when I see it, chica.'

You eventually decide it's time for bed, putting out the campfire after cooking what's left of the rabbit so you have food for tomorrow. Flaco sulks when you try and get him into the tent, saying he doesn't want to sleep yet. He's can be such a child; you're surprised this overgrown baby is one of the world's most famous and feared gunslingers.

"I'll put the cuffs back on if you don't get to bed," you threaten.

Flaco mischievously chuckles. "You should put the cuffs back on for other reasons, mi amor."

You're blushing heavily, and sadly, your crotch begins to ache. Damn this man. And damn you for having a soft spot for him.

"Bed. Now."

Flaco huffs but gets up, taking off his sombrero as he crawls into the tent. You follow behind, tying up the tent flaps as Flaco gets himself comfortable.  
When you turn around, Flacos lying on his back with his hands out, reaching for you.

"What are you doing?" You ask him, sitting back on your knees by his feet.

"I'm waiting for my cuddle," Flaco replies, flexing his hands in a grabbing motion.

"Your cuddle?"

"Sí."

"Why would I cuddle you, Hernández?" You frown.

"I assumed you were cold again, mi querido."

"I'm not cold."

"Okay, but I am. Would you not do the same for me, amor?" Flaco keeps his arms still out, probably aching a bit. He flexes his hands yet again.

"Fine," you huff, giving in. You shuffle next to Flaco, allowing him to grab hold of you. He pulls you half on top of him, your head resting on his shoulder, chest pressed against his. His arms are eager to wrap around you, kneading you until they're comfortable. He has one arm wrapped around your waist, the other one coming up to gently run his fingers through your hair, brushing it off your face and making your scalp tingle.

Why is Flaco like this? If his plan is to make you soft on him so you'll let him escape, then it's working. You remind yourself that you have to turn him in else those men died for nothing. You were to split that bounty money to help pay for their funerals, then spend the rest on getting new gear and horses. Maybe treat yourself to something nice with whatever money is leftover.

Flacos hand slows down as he's starting to fall asleep. You know he's asleep when his hand stops and his snoring starts. How does he fall asleep so fast?! You're one of those unlucky sods who lies awake for hours, usually pondering all your life decisions. Does Flaco not do that? Then again, he is drunk.

You spend a little while doing that - pondering your life decisions. The main one was Flaco. You had to finally admit it to yourself but you were sweet on this man, you had such a soft spot for him.  
If his plan was to dispose of you then fine, maybe that was better than watching him swing. There's no way you can attend that; you usually attend the hangings of bounties you've turned in, but there's no way you can attend Flacos.

You can picture it now: Flaco looking out through the audience, trying to find you. He wants to look at you one last time, wants to tell you that he enjoyed his final days with you by his side. You won't be able to keep your eyes on him as the floor underneath him disappears, hearing that awful snapping sound, wishing you did something to save the life of the man you deniably care for.

Are you... crying? Fuck sake.

You were only a day away from Strawberry. You could easily get there tomorrow evening, but maybe you'll walk a little slower so you can spend another night with him.  
You bury your face against his chest more, savouring the feeling of his coat brushing against your skin. You'll get to that hurdle when it approaches. For now, you'll enjoy Flacos company. You'll enjoy his tight grip on you, his bear sized hands holding onto you like his life depends on it.

Which it does.


	5. Angst

Flaco almost throws you off him, jumping awake as the roar of a bear echoes through the mountains.

"Fuck, ouch!" You whine as you rub the back of your head, sitting upright. Flaco shushes you, going to put his hand over your mouth but you swat him away.

"It's that bastardo," Flaco whispers.

The two of you slowly emerge from the tent, looking around for any sign of him. You're thankful the sun has slowly started to rise, giving you some light. You go to grab your guns but Flaco beats you to it. You feel your heart drop, watching as Flaco grabs his pistol that you stowed away in your bag.  
Was this it? Was he going to kill this bear then end you?

"Give that back," you whisper. Flaco turns and gives you a funny look.

"I will, after we kill that hijo de puta. You have my word."

You want to scoff and remind him that his word means nothing, but you can hear thudding footsteps bouncing off the mountain. The bears charging but neither of you can see him.

"There!" You yelp, pointing behind Flaco as the beast comes charging towards you, emerging through the trees, hungry for his revenge.

You both fire your guns, hearing the bear whine in pain but he doesn't stop. You're out of bullets and so is Flaco, but there's not enough time to reload. You swap guns just in time, the beast standing on his hind legs as he's about to rip the two of you to shreds.  
The sound of a shotgun echoes through the valley, bouncing off the mountains, making snow fall from the trees. All signs of life escape from the bears eyes, his body slowly slumping down to the side.

You're panting, puffs of cold air falling heavy from your mouth. The smoke can still be seen trailing from the barrel of your gun as you stand there, staring down at the corpse.

"Mi amor!" Flaco shouts, grinning from ear to ear. He gives you a pat on the back as he walks over, looking down at the bear's body. "Oh, right through the heart," Flaco points, "Just how I felt when I first saw you."

You laugh a little through your pants, your face quickly turning into a smile. He's so quick with his comments.

"I suppose we should get out of here before another one shows up," you state, still staring at the body.

Flaco turns to face you, holding out his revolver. You're shocked but you take it from him, putting it in your own holster.

"It suits you," Flaco comments as he walks past you, flashing you a grin. He pulls his hair out of its ponytail, running his fingers through his dark locks in an attempt to comb his hair through. Once satisfied, he ties his hair up again before pulling his hat out of the tent. Flaco then begins to pack away the camp whilst you sort out breakfast, deciding there's no point skinning that bear as its pelt and meat are full of bullets, nor do you want to linger around this area any longer. 

Once the two of you have finished packing up, Flaco turns to you, holding his wrists out.

"Go on, chica. Cuff me. I've been a chico travieso," Flaco smirks.

Without thinking, you take a hold of his wrists, turning them over to see how they're healing. They look a bit better but still red, scabs have formed overnight. As much as you don't want to cuff him, you have to.  
You take out some spare rags, soaking them in the same ointment. You wrap them around his wrist, loosely tying them in place before putting the cuffs back on over the rags. Hopefully, it would both stop the rubbing and help those wounds.

"You care for me, mi querida," Flaco states as he lowers his hands.

"I care about those wounds, Flaco."

"Heh," Flaco lightly chuckles. "You must care for me since you're calling me Flaco now."

You sigh, looking up at the grinning man, the two of you knowing he's right but not wanting to admit it.

"Come on," you tell him, not bothering to chain his wrist to yours, subconsciously knowing he'll behave. Flaco takes note of this, not mentioning it for once.

You're both delighted to see the amount of snow lessen as you finally come to the end of the mountain, approaching Big Valley. It's still a little cold, but you're glad to finally be out of that snow.  
You can already see more life, enjoying seeing the deer run past, the rabbits scurry, the horses gallop in the distance. Your eyes are on the scenery the whole time, but Flaco has his on you. You finally click on to his staring, looking up at him.

"Why are you staring at me?" You question, a little bluntly.

"I'm not staring," Flaco smirks.

"Yes, you are."

"No, amor. I'm admiring."

You huff, pretending you're annoyed at him. It's no use, Flaco knows by now that you're soft on him. No matter how many times you deny it and try to avoid his smothering affection, he knows it. You know it. We all know it.

The sun is high over the two of you, thankfully not making you sweat under all your layers as the air is still cold. You let out a yawn, your eyes slightly heavy from having your sleep interrupted. Flaco questions if you're tired, and all you can do is nod in agreement.

"You want to stop for a nap, hermosa?"

"We could," you shrug. "Then we'll arrive around midnight. Not like the Sheriff's office won't be open."

"You still going through with that?"

"I have to," you reply, looking up at Flaco. "Else those men I took with me died for nothing."

"They knew what they were signing up for, it's part of the job. No sympathy for fools," Flaco scoffs, looking forward. His brows are slightly furrowed but he still doesn't believe you'll actually go through with it.

"I... I don't know, Flaco. I mean, you're right, and I've never thought of it like that but I'd feel guilty letting them die for nothing."

"Whatever you say," Flaco shrugs, cutting his reply short rather than arguing about it. He keeps his gaze forward and you decide not to carry on the conversation.

You find a decent spot on the other side of Owanjila Dam, just beside the waterfall. Flaco sits on a boulder, grumpily watching you as you quickly set up the tent. You offer him some lunch but he declines it, removing his sombrero as he enters the tent.

"Can't cuddle you if my wrists are bound, chica," Flaco says as you enter, leaving the tent flaps unbound to let in a cool breeze.

"I... I can't cuddle you," you tell him, kneeling beside him.

"Why?"

You stutter, unsure on what to say and if you should say it.

"You're already attached to old Flaco. Embrace it," he tells you.

You don't know what to do or reply, so you just lie down facing away from him, biting at your bottom lip sheepishly. Flaco grunts, remaining on his back, letting his eyes shut.

Flaco doesn't sleep, his eyes occasionally opening to check on you and gorm at the canopy walls. You're not really going to turn him in, are you? Flaco understands why you feel like you need to, but he also feels like his point of view is more than reasonable. Those men knew the risk, they knew who they were going up against. It's not Flacos fault if they got themselves killed, and it's not Flacos fault that you've fallen for him.  
Well, maybe a little bit. But if two people are meant to be together then they'll find a way.

Flaco rolls over. You didn't notice, but when you put Flacos cuffs back on, the right one didn't properly lock into place. Flaco's kept the unlocked cuff around his wrist, hoping you wouldn't notice. He never told you since he didn't want to have to deal with that pain again, and he's thankful as it now meant he can reach around and take hold of your waist, pulling your back against his chest. He rests his other hand under his head, his grip on you not being too tight in case he accidentally wakes you up.

Flaco shuts his eyes, attempting to at least nap a little. His heart thuds as he feels you reach down to grab a hold of his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, still fast asleep. He hears you deeply exhale, stirring gently. Flaco cups your hand, his thumb rubbing over the back of it. He's no longer bothered if you wake up to find his cuffs unlocked, he'll just say they broke whilst you were asleep.

Your nap turns into a sleep, resting for a good couple of hours. You stir awake, slowly removing Flacos hand from your waist so you can get up, leaving him to rest a little longer. You don't click on to the fact that Flacos broke free from his cuffs, the small intimacy clouding your vision.  
You stretch, washing your face in the lake. Flacos awake by the time you return, rubbing his eyes as he sits upright.

The suns almost set and Strawberry is only round the corner. You'll be there by the time it's midnight.  
Your bags are quickly packed, crossing the stream and following the trail into town. Flaco manages to put the broken cuff back around his wrist when you're not looking, holding his hands together in hope that it doesn't fall off.

Your walk into Strawberry is silent, Flaco following behind as you lead the way. And to think, when you first met him, you had a gun pointed to his back as you ordered him to march ahead.  
It isn't until the two of you see the sign that reads ' _Strawberry_ ' that Flaco begins to kick up a fuss. You're here, finally here, and the reality of it all is starting to sink in for both of you. There's a knot in your stomach as your eyes trail away from the sign, feet forcing themselves forward down the road, but Flaco's ready to begin fighting for his life.

"You're not going through with this, chica?" He asks you, a concerned tone to his voice.

"I have to, Hernández," you say as you stop for a moment, letting him catch up to you. You wait until he's walking a few paces ahead, then follow behind.

"Why you calling me Hernández? We got past that, hermosa," Flaco scoffs.

"I can't get friendly with you. I..." you stutter, "you know I can't. I have to turn you in, you know the-"

"I know!" Flaco cuts you off, his voice slightly raised. He turns to face you and you can see the anger and heartache over his face. "I told you, they knew what they were signing up for. You ain't gotta feel sorry for fools."

"Then they died for nothing, Hernández!" You shout back.

"Men die for nothing all the time, that's not my concern. My only concern is keeping my ass alive."

"I knew it! So you were only getting cosy with me just to distract me from your escape!" You can feel your lip shaking; there a lump in your throat and your body is urging you to cry.

"You have that all wrong, mi amor. I got cosy with you beca-"

"Jesus!" The Sheriff half shouts. Neither of you had noticed but you were stood in the road outside the Sheriff's office, your arguing alerting the law. "You got him? You actually got him?!" He steps out of his office, stunned at the fact that you actually managed to capture Flaco, not clicking on to the fact that you're stood in the road, arguing like an unhappy couple.

Flaco lunges forward, reaching out to grab his pistol that's still equipt in your holster. He's too slow, the Sheriff pointing his gun at him. You step a few paces back, unsure how to react.

"Not so fast, Hernández," The Sheriff says as everybody hears the click of his loaded gun, ready to fire. Flaco backs up, raising his hands in the air. You click on to the fact that his cuffs are broke and have probably been broken a long time. "Your time is up, now be good and come inside," he orders.

Flaco frowns at you, slowly walking forwards, turning himself in.

"Wait," Flaco says as he stops in the doorway.

"No," The Sheriff grunts, taking hold of Flaco's arm. He's about to pull him in but you call out.

"No. I wanna hear what he has to say," you say, stepping forward. There's still some distance between you and Flaco, but you're close enough to notice the watery glaze over his eyes.

Flacos silent for a moment, thinking about what his last words will be. "You take care of my pistol, mi amor. You got something to remember me by," Flaco flashes you that flirtatious smirk.

"Flaco.. I-" He cuts you off.

"I've got something to remember you by too," Flaco jokes as he flashes you his wrists, your bandages still carefully wrapped around them. Flaco goes to say something else but decides against it, his head lowering as he walks himself into the office, making his way down the stairs.

You hold back your tears as much as you can, not wanting the Sheriff to question why you're crying. You slowly enter the building, over-hearing Flaco being locked in a cell downstairs. You quickly wipe your eyes as you hear footsteps, the Sheriff coming up the stairs.

"I ain't got no idea how you managed to turn him in alive," he laughs, making his way over to his desk. "He been much trouble?"

"None at all, actually. But erm.. the others..." you stutter.

"Didn't make it?" The Sheriff finishes your sentence. You nod. "That's a shame. But then again, they knew what they were getting themselves into," he shrugs, speaking with a soft sigh.

Your heart sinks, hearing that exact line that Flaco's been telling you this whole time. You're almost certain he's in his cell smirking at that, knowing he's in the right.  
The Sheriff hands you your pay, letting you know he'll have someone retrieve the bodies and comfort their families. You thank him, though it doesn't feel sincere.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you begin to cry. You look around, finding a lone horse stood outside the welcome centre. You tell yourself you'll return it before the owner even notices it's gone.

You're eager to ride away, not knowing that Flaco's watching you from his cell, certain that not only is this his last day alive, but it's also the last time he'll ever see you.

What have you done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god. why did you do that to poor baby boy hernández??


	6. Trust

The tears are flowing as you ride away, blurring your vision. There's a lump in your throat that you lightly choke on, your lip trembling as your hand continues to rub over your eyes, making them swell up even more.  
The ride back home doesn't take long, hitching the stranger's horse outside. You want to go check on your own horse in the barn but you can't right now. You need your bed.

You chuck your rucksack to the floor as you enter your home, quickly lighting a few candles before kicking off your coat and boots, placing your gunbelt over a chair. You slump onto your bed, not holding back, allowing yourself to ugly cry as you grip your covers.  
As you roll onto your side, you can feel his ghostly touches on you. There's no way you can sleep tonight, already hating this feeling of being alone.

Your mind digs a deep hole for its thoughts. His final words echo through your head, the sorrowful look in his eyes as he turned away from you. You get up from your bed, still gripping your covers for comfort. You walk over to your desk, your gunbelt resting over the back of it. You remove Flaco's revolver, sitting back down on your bed as you look down at it.  
His revolver is spotless, the design echoed his personality. You love the little skulls on it, along with the fancy swirls and decor. You'd heard many tales about this gun, every story of Flaco always mentioning his personal revolver. Well, here it is, gifted by Flaco himself.

To think, he trusts you enough to give you his most prized possession. He trusts you enough to ask you to take care of his gun, the only thing that's pulled him through these years. He's known you for a few days but it's more than enough to soften his rough exterior, breaking his walls down and letting you in, rewarding you with his most valuable asset. He even asked you to keep it safe, to look after it for him.

What are you meant to do? You can't let him die. If he was meant to die then your heart wouldn't feel like this. Your gut is urging you to do something, but what?

You place his gun on your bedside table, lying back, staring at the ceiling.

You need a plan.

You're unable to sleep, your mind ticking away as it conjures a plan. As soon as you've settled on one, you jump to your feet, packing whatever you need as you force yourself to eat something, downing it with a confident swig of whiskey.

Once your bags are packed you head to your barn, saddling up your horse after giving them a quick brush. You stow your belongings in their saddlebags, deciding that these were the few items you could live with.  
If this plan failed, there was no way you could return here. At least, not straight away. The town knows you, they know where you live, and if you're caught then it's all over. You've spent a long time here and for some reason, you're willing to chuck all this away for a criminal you met a few days ago.

You're ready to go. Mounting the stranger's horse, you take the reigns of your own horse, leading them closely behind as you begin travelling back into town. It's early, around 4am. The birds are slowly starting to sing and the skys a little light. Hopefully, the town would be empty; you're thankful Strawberry doesn't have a saloon, meaning no drunkards will be trailing out of it at this time. But you still pray that town will be quiet, you really don't want to have to hurt anyone during this.

You're back in Strawberry, looking over at the window of the jail in hopes of seeing Flaco. You can't see him, but at least you know he's there. You hitch the strangers' horse at the welcome centre, hitching yours beside them. You thank them, feeding them a few treats as you chew on a mouthful of chewing tobacco, keeping yourself alert and awake.

Nobodys around and you make sure of that, checking multiple times as you approach the window. Your heart flutters at this, hoping you won't have to hurt nor kill anybody.  
Whilst crouching down, you peer in to see Flaco sat on the bed, his head in his hands. He's been stripped of his weapon equipment, coat, and hat, leaving him to freeze in a thin white shirt and his dark pants.  
Your heart aches to see him like this, but it's all about to change.

"Flaco," you whisper. His head picks up, turning over his shoulder to see you looking down at him. His eyes light up, but the light quickly fades away.

"You here to watch me swing? You're a little early," Flaco grunts, keeping his voice low. You want to pass him his gun but the bars are too close together.

"Stand away from the window, Hernández," you smirk. Flacos eyes glisten, grinning from ear to ear as he quickly stands, getting as far away as he can. He knows exactly what you're here for and his heart is pounding in his chest as he watches you save him.

You plant two sticks of dynamite on either side of the bars, standing well back as you shoot one. The earth shakes as the bars are blown open, leaving a huge hole in the wall.  
The smoke clouds your vision, waving your hand as you approach the cell, looking out for Flaco. His large frame comes into your line of sight as he emerges from the smoke, looking far too attractive as he climbs out through the rubble.

You take out Flacos gun, ready to hand it back to him. You're about to speak but Flaco cuts you off, gently cupping your head in his hands as he finally bends down to kiss you. The kiss is so full of fire, long-awaited and needy. You sigh against his lips, your hand holding onto his arm as you feel your knees going weak.  
You have to break it, grabbing a hold of his hand as you rush him over to your horse.

Flaco climbs on, settling in your saddle as he pulls you onto the back.

"Take it," you tell him as you pass him his gun.

"You keep a hold of it, gotta keep an eye out," Flaco tells you as he urges your horse to run.

Somehow, you manage it. You look over your shoulder as you leave Strawberry. Somehow, nobody is around; no one has come out of their houses to see what the fuss is all about, and no law can be seen. Everybody must be a little taken back from the loud blast, or they just have really slow reaction times, but you're thankful, managing to escape without a trace.

You put Flacos gun back in your holster, gripping onto his waist as he rides. You point him in the right direction, deciding you can go back to your home as nobody saw you. And if they did, why would they come after you? Nobody is stupid enough to come after a bounty hunter and 'the Terror of the Grizzlies,' not unless they have a death wish.  
You just need a few days to find a wagon and somewhere to move to. Somewhere warm, you don't want to touch snow ever again.

"So," Flaco says as he peers over his shoulder at you. "What happened to leaving me to swing, hermosa?"

"I couldn't do it," you confess to him. "You're... different. I felt so guilty when I watched you walk away. And you were right, those men knew what they were signing up for."

Flaco chuckles to himself. "So you are soft for me, mi amor?"

"Yeah, always have been."

"I know, chica. I told you, Flaco knows that look when he sees it," Flaco says as he turns back to focus on driving. You don't reply, you just tighten your grip on his waist, your cheek pressing against his back as he drives.

The two of you return home. Flaco makes a comment about how nice your little cabin is. You hitch your horse, keeping it saddled up just in case.  
Flaco enters your home, looking around as you begin packing. Flaco laughs, telling you not to worry, you'll have a few days to sort things out. Besides, you didn't even have a wagon, nor a place to move to.

"I.. I just," you stutter, "I've never done anything like this before! I don't know how long until they come for me."

"If they come for you. I'm in a gang, querida. They'll think the Del Lobos came and broke me out," Flaco tells you as he takes a seat at your dinner table.

"You think so?" you ask for reassurance.

"Which one of us is the outlaw here, chica?" Flaco chuckles. He's right, as long as nobody saw you, then you're fine. But Flaco can't stay here, and if Flaco can't stay then neither will you. "Sit down," Flaco urges you.

You pull out your chair.

"No," Flaco firmly vomments, watching you and shaking his head. "Come here," he orders, beckoning you forward with a swift curl of his fingers.

You smile and approach him, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. One of his hands rests around your waist, the other gripping hold of your thigh. Even whilst on his lap, he's still towering over you. He watches you closely, his head leaning against your hand as you cup his jaw.

"You trust me now, mi pequeña cazadora?" Flaco asks you, his gaze locked on you.

"Only a little bit," you joke.

"Oh, only a little bit?" Flaco smirks. "You trust me enough to be gentle with you?" He purrs, his hand coming up to rest under your chin. Flacos eyes are full of lust, watching your reaction. He chuckles as your pupils go wide, knowing that look of arousal in your eyes.

"Haven't you always been gentle with me?" you reply, trying to play him at his own game. You're bound to fail, Flaco has such a way with words.

"Far too gentle," Flaco replies. His hand moves away from your chin, grabbing a hold of your thigh as he urges you to straddle him. You rest your hands around his shoulders, his hands on your hips. "I should have pinned you down that first night I had you in my arms."

Flaco leans forward, gently kissing you. You can tell he's starving for you but holding himself back, not wanting to rush into this moment. Before deepening the kiss, he reaches down to unbuckle your gun belt, letting it fall to the floor. Flaco firmly grips your hips, rolling them against his crotch, making you softly moan against him.  
He lets out a little laugh, letting you bite his lip as you roll your hips against him.

"Can I confess something to you, Flaco?" you ask him, breaking the kiss.

"Am I a pastor now, chica?" he chuckles. You sigh but he urges you to confess.

"I wanted that. That first night when I was shivering against you, I wanted you to pin me down and take me right there."

Flacos eyes light up as you tell him, stealing more kisses off you after sighing.

"I thought you were a good girl, mi amor," Flaco softly tells you against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Guess I'm an outlaw now," you shrug.

"You must be. Breaking old Flaco out of jail, and now you're sat on my lap, hinting that you want me to take you. Sounds like you're a real niña traviesa, hm?"

"You know I don't know what those words mean, Flaco," you tell him.

"Hmm. Guess I'll just have to show you then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> incoming smut wahoooooooooooooooooooo


	7. Lust

Flaco picks you up, holding your thighs against his waist as he moves you over to your bed. He gently places you down, pinning himself over you as he hungrily kisses you again. You can faintly taste tobacco on his lips, knowing he's not had a cigarette in a while. The two of you can enjoy one after this business is attended to.  
You kick off your boots, hearing them thud against the wooden floor. Flaco does the same before fully climbing onto your bed. He rolls his hips down against you, his hard cock rutting against your crotch through the layers of fabric.

You let out a soft yelp the first time he does it, making him chuckle as he moves down to kiss and nip your neck, leaving a few predatory marks on your skin.

"How long have you waited for this, amor?" Flaco asks in between kisses.

"Since..." you stutter, "since I chucked you in the back of that wagon."

"Me too. What a coincidence." Flaco moves his mouth back to yours, rutting his hips harder against yours. You can tell he's irritated by the layers of fabric, breaking the kiss to pull your pants off in a swift motion.

You lean up on your elbows, going to pull your shirt off but Flaco moves your hands away, wanting to do it himself. He then pulls off his own shirt, chucking it to the floor. You have no time to admire him, his lips moving down your body.

Flaco finds your breasts, gently kissing and sucking your nipples, so hungry for every inch of your body. You're still propped up on your elbows, looking down to watch the much larger man move his hand in between your thighs. He's quick to find your clit, rubbing it in small circular motions on top of the thin layer of your undergarments.

You sigh, opening your legs a little more. Flaco chuckles against you, moving back up to kiss along your neck.

"So needy for me, aren't you, chica?" he asks, kissing below your ear, his breath hot on your skin.

"That a bad thing?" you ask, deeply exhaling as Flaco finds his way down your undergarments, pulling them off fairly quickly. His mouth finds your neck again, pushing you down to lie on your back as he goes back to rubbing firm circles over your clit.

Flacos pinned directly over you, his arm propping himself up beside your head. Your break the kiss to let out a pent up moan as Flaco slides one of his thick fingers all the way into you, his thumb coming to rub over your clit. He holds his finger there for a moment, grinning as he moves back to marking your neck. Flaco fucks his finger into you, deep and hard, enjoying the way you squirm underneath him.

You're moaning his name, already feeling like putty despite him barely touching you.

"We've barely started and you already feel like you're going to cum," Flaco says in between kisses as he moves down your body, kissing your breasts once again, working his way down your stomach.

"It's not my fault you're good," you sigh, enjoying Flacos lips gently moving over your stomach.

Flaco tenderly kisses your thigh, his facial hair lightly trailing over your skin, slowly working his way closer to your pussy. "You deserve a reward for breaking me out, mi amor."

You let out a long moan as you feel him gently lick over your clit, his finger slowly fucking you, curled upwards to rub against that spot inside of you. He flicks between gently sucking your clit, to swiping his tongue over it.  
Another finger finds its way inside of you, brushing over your g-spot, making your legs tremble. Flaco hums against your clit, loving how desperate you are for him.

He picks up his fingers pace, holding back ever so slightly from fucking you senseless with his hand. He wanted his cock to do that, eager to feel your walls tighten around him. You're not holding back on your moans, every one of them making his cock twitch in his pants. Flacos throbbing for you; he wants to hold back and pleasure you orally as much as he can, but he can't take it anymore, not wanting to tease himself, nor you. 

Flaco pulls away, sitting back on his knees, admiring your flustered body. You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he pulls his fingers out of you, quickly wiping them off on his pants as he goes to undo his belt.  
Flaco keeps his eyes locked onto yours, watching your reaction as he pulls out his cock. He's solid, not too long but unbelievably girthy. Your mouth waters, wanting him inside of you asap.

Flaco chuckles, practically ripping off his pants. He takes a hold of your thighs, pulling you up against his cock. He urges you to put your legs around his waist, looking down to rub the underside of his shaft over your soaked pussy. He loves the way you squirm, watching your patience deteriorate.

"Stop teasing me," you sigh, reaching up to grip at his forearms.

"You teased me for days on that mountain, chica. Only fair I get to tease you now," Flaco smirks, knowing he's in the right. He grinds his cock down a little harder, your body shaking every time he rubs over your clit.

"Oh, fuck!" You yelp, finally feeling your walls stretch open as Flaco pushes himself fully into you with one long, deep thrust.

"Mierda!" Flaco mutters under his breath, keeping his cock deep inside of you for a moment, loving the way your soft walls clench around him. He slowly pulls all the way out, only to slam back into you, making you yelp again.

You can barely keep your eyes open as Flaco begins fucking you, his hands firmly gripping your thighs, pinning you in place. You're glad you don't have neighbours, there's no way you would hold back, even if you did. A wet slapping sound fills the air, along with your moans and Flacos short grunts.

For once, Flacos not nagging your ear off. He's far too distracted with how good you feel around his cock. His cheeks are flustered, hair trailing down near the corner of his eyes, a small layer of sweat built upon his forehead and chest. He looks far too good, especially with the candlelit lighting.  
Flaco takes a hold of your waist, manhandling you as he sits upright so he can look down and enjoy watching his cock thrust into you.

Flaco can't close his mouth, letting himself come undone in front of you. He's panting heavily, his thumb coming down to flick over your clit, grinning as your legs begin to tremble against him.

"Flaco," you manage you mutter, your voice sounding like a moan. His eyes flick up to you, keeping up his pace as he looks down at you.

"Sí?" he asks.

"I'm getting close," you moan. Flaco smiles before gritting his teeth together, not holding back as he ploughs down into you.

"Te llenaré tan bueno," Flaco mumbles. One of his arms come down to rest beside your head, propping himself over you. He wraps the other one underneath your lower back, practically pulling you onto his lap. He holds you into place, fucking you deep into the mattress.

You knew he was going to be good, but if you knew he was going to be _this_ good then you would have pounced on him the second you had him in cuffs.

"Oh, fuck, oh!" you mutter in between moans. "Please, Flaco, please cum in me!" You yell, your nails clawing at his back as you feel your walls tighten. Flaco can't deny you, letting out a deep moan as he cums deep inside of you, your walls milking his cock as you reach your peak. Flaco hisses, his head resting in the crook of your neck as you continue to tremble around him, his thumb coming to flick over your clit, milking you of your own orgasm.

The two of you soon come down from your high, Flaco placing a loving kiss on your lips before sliding out of you, rolling back to lie beside you on your bed.  
You can see his broad chest rising and falling in the corner of your eye. His hand comes down to rest on your thigh, giving it a little squeeze as the two of you calm yourselves.

"Worth the wait, chica?" Flaco asks as he finally manages to catch his breath.

"Of course it was," you sigh. You take a deep breath before getting up, rolling over Flaco so you can grab a cloth to clean yourself down. You chuck the cloth over to Flaco, going around your cabin to blow out all the candles. The daylight is peeking through your curtains, making you a little annoyed that your sleeping pattern was now ruined beyond repair.

Flaco chucks the cloth directly at you, laughing as you squirm away from it. You get into bed, playfully smacking his arm as you both get under the covers.  
You roll onto your side, Flaco comfortably spooning you, his hand giving your stomach a playful squeeze. He sits up a little so he can gently kiss along your neck.

"You glad you rescued me, mi amor?" Flaco softly asks you.

"I might throw you back in the cell," you tease.

"When it's fixed." The two of you laugh.

You roll onto your back, pulling Flaco down gently against your lips. He's more than happy to kiss you, his kisses full of love, so soft and gentle. Flaco pulls away, leaving a few kisses dotted over your face, making you giggle. He eventually settles back down behind you, happily being the big spoon.  
You can feel his cock getting hard again, and he lets you know by rutting it against your ass.

"Again?" you sigh, feeling far too tired.

"Only if you want," he replies.

"Maybe in the morning."

"It is morning."

"Well... you know what I mean," you wave it off. Flaco kisses the back of your neck.

"Flaco?"

"Mh?"

"You're not going anywhere, are you? I didn't break you out just so you can run off with your gang again," you ask him, your voice loving but firm.

"No, querida. I'm here to stay," he softly tells you, kissing the back of your neck again.

"Good," you sigh, your hand coming down to rest on top of his.

The two of you finally fall asleep, happy to have each others company and a comfortable bed to sleep on. You had already decided on moving west, knowing his gang roams those parts. He'll keep you safe, they'll keep you safe. You're almost certain the law won't be after you, assuming his gang broke him out the cell, not the bounty hunter that turned him in.


	8. Love

The next few days are spent packing. You dared to go into town to buy a wagon, accidentally bumping into the Sheriff on the way. He asks you how you are, then eagerly moves the conversation on to the fact that Flaco had been broken out of jail.

"It's that damn gang of his, the Del Lobos," The Sheriff scoffed, making your nerves settle. Phew! He had no idea!

You asked his plans and surprisingly, he shrugged Flaco off. He blamed himself for not having any suitable men on guard that night, saying the ones who were meant to be on guard duty had fallen asleep after getting drunk together. Of course, they were fired. The Sheriff then asked if you planned on capturing Flaco again, to which you declined, telling him you were moving north and trying to settle down. He was thankful to hear it, thanking you for all your service.

Flaco roared with laughter when you told him about the encounter, he was practically in tears. He quickly scooped you into his arms and smothered you in kisses.

"I told you! I told you that you had nothing to worry about," Flaco grinned from ear to ear.

Your cabin was sold within the week, mostly due to its beautiful location. You couldn't believe this was happening so fast, but before you knew it, you were riding your wagon over the border into Thieves Landing, Flaco hiding in the back amongst your belongings. After Flaco greeted a few men and your horses had a break, you were back on the road, the word spreading amongst the Del Lobos that Flaco was back in New Austin.

The two of you eventually picked out a homestead that the Del Lobos currently used as a hideout. It was in decent condition but needed a little bit of work to the roof and barn. Flaco was eager to help with the labor, especially now his wrists had finally healed.

"Look at us, amor. And to think a few weeks ago you were hauling my ass down a mountain. This how you pick out all your men?" He giggled. You rolled your eyes, throwing back a sarky response that only made him giggle more.

You had to head into town one day for a few things, surprising Flaco when you returned with a new outfit, seeing as he had spent the last few weeks in that same white shirt and scraggy pants. He was eager to put on a sombrero again so the sun stays out of his eyes, and your eyes glistened when you saw him in the poncho you picked out for him to keep him warm during the cold nights. He smirked at your gaze.

"You like the look of me in my homeland attire, chica? Remind me to never take you there, you'll be all over those men," He teased. You were quick to explain that it was just nice to see him in something other than a scraggy shirt or fur coat but he brushed off your explanation. "I can keep it on when we make love. I know you want me to."

Flaco could never keep his hands off you, even in front of his men. He'd often have you sitting across his lap during games of poker, ignoring the groans and jokey remarks they made every time Flaco got distracted by you.  
His men got along with you really well. They were a bit... confused at first, questioning why you gave up a well-paying career to spend your days with an outlaw.

The law never bothered you. Flaco seemed to slip right under their noses. You had seen no bounty posters for him, nor mentions of him. Of course, the law were always after Del Lobos, but Flaco was hidden in their line of sight.  
The Pinkertons also seemed to lose track of him. The last you heard was that they were searching for him in the Grizzles again, stupidly thinking he had returned to his snowy hideout.

Once the house was finally finished, Flaco dragged you outside.

"I told you I'd do this," he said as he scooped you up in his arms bridal style.

"Huh?" You asked, allowing Flaco to pick you up.

"I told you I'd be carrying you away in my arms before this journey was over," Flaco said as he kissed along your jawline.

"But it's not over," you told him.

"Oh, you're going to tell me 'it's only just begun', aren't you?" Flaco asks. You nod. "And you say I'm cheesy," Flaco rolls his eyes, but you wipe that smug look off his face with a hungry kiss.

Flaco carries you inside, laying you down on the cougar skin rug by the fire, eager to take you. And keep you, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END?!?! AHHHHH
> 
> I love Flaco and will deffo write more of him in future, I'm just hoping others fall for him as well!!!!!!
> 
> Tumblr and Twitter are @MALLR4TS


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